At Nancie's
by Stacy O'Rye
Summary: Ikuto sees the same pink haired girl everyday on Tuesdays. He finally musters the courage to talk to the girl. What is her response? one shot


**At Nancie's**

Tuesday, exactly 4:25 on the first day of school, at the third column of the last row table for two in the cafe, Nancie's. Her bubblegum hair gently laid on her fragile shoulders and her golden eyes scanned a page from a thick book. Her gentle smile that she gave when he couldn't move his blue eyes fast enough from hers. She captured his heart. She was dead drop gorgeous._ I don't know anything about her!_ he thought unconvincingly and tried to forget.

But it happened over and over. As weeks passed, he would always see her at the exact place, Tuesday, 4:25, Nancie's. She was also alone too, reading silently, making the empty chair extremely tempting.

Finally, during the last month of school, he walked through the doors and immediately spotted her, it had been long since he had been sick of the stupid vomit-taste of the mocha but he felt pent up frustration just the thought of not coming. She too have became accustomed to seeing him and waved. She did it a little bit longer now and her smile was better than the first. If he thought she was beautiful on the first day, she was an angel in disguise today Or at least he thought so. Suddenly, as if someone put a spell on him, he felt like a urge to say it. To be straightforward and and tell this girl that he didn't even know the name of, or at least talk to her. Yes, talking shouldn't be that bad. He, Ikuto Tsuikiyomi, had mustered up the courage to do it.

After a second, he laughed out loud, causing the person behind and front of him to glance at him oddly. Wasn't he the player? Wasn't _he_ the person who made the girl beg to be his date? Now, Ikuto thought of it, he hadn't thought much about other girls. His friends always joked about how he had the "playboy disease" and that even the best doctor wouldn't be able to fix it. Maybe that girl really is from somewhere else.

4:26pm. The line of people were too short. Ikuto cursed under his breath as he ordered the dreadful mocha. As he waited for it to come out, his stomach churned. He felt nervous and uncertain. When was the last time was he this jittery? His first violin recital? No, even then, it wasn't nearly as bad. He felt hurried, as if he was afraid the girl (who was currently too engulfed in her book to notice him) would suddenly leave which had never happened.

"Here's your mocha, si-" Ikuto quickly snatched the mocha at the worker's hand who gave him a dirty look but he easily ignored it. Now for the big moment.

Ikuto walked coolly as he tried to mess up his midnight-blue hair in a sexy way. He seated himself at the empty chair at least. She didn't look up. He sat uncomfortably, waiting until he realized that he had a voice.

"Hi." She looked up, extremely startled. Figures, it wasn't everyday when some stranger pops on ones partner chair.

"What's your name?" she opened her mouth and then closed it. She flexed her fingers in an odd fashion and then shook her head and sighed. He waited patiently, not really caring for her odd behavior until he realized that it is a very strange for a random person to suddenly come up and ask for ones name. Very stalker-ish.

"Er, I'm Ikuto," he said quickly. She nodded slowly, as if she was trying to memorize the name.

"There's been a lot of movies coming out lately. Do you have any favorite?" She still didn't answer. Still awkward, huh? His brain wasn't working correctly.

"Hrm, now that you're here and everything, I was thinking to pick the topic. What do you want to talk about?" Lame. The pinkette, smiled and pulled her hair and pointed at him. She wanted to talk about him.

"What about?" she shrugged. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Well, I'm from a family of four. I have a sister who is a talented singer. I am a high schooler, er..I like the violin and taiyaki" he said as he awkwardly listed out his own hobbies. Didn't girls like to talk about themselves? No one ever asked him to talk about his own hobbies or just him in general so he thought he would be extremely quick about it. He wasn't. He didn't realize he liked so many things and realized that he didn't have much of a life, always getting a girl just to dump them. For the first time he didn't like the actions he had done. It was getting to him, nagging him. What the heck did he do?

He also had strange pauses, which the girl simply waved her hand to continue.

The pink girl. As minutes passed, her golden eyes were becoming more and more distant and even had some concern in them when she glanced at the clock. Why didn't she excuse herself if she had to go somewhere instead of making him go through this annoying talk? If she didn't nod or wave her hands every so often, Ikuto would have been sure that she had stopped listening. She started tapping her feet and rubbing her hands awhile back. It was rare that they have eye contact now.

His patience was running thin now. If she wanted to go, just go. They weren't getting anywhere with this. He had expected by now that they'd be having a friendly chat. He started to have doubts. Yes, that was why. Ikuto could talk hours if she liked but looks aren't everything. She was simply ignoring him, playing with him, as if she knew very well how difficult it was to just come up to her and was wasting it all away. His mind snapped when she took out a blue pen and was writing something on the napkin. He normally would walk away but after so many weeks of anticipation, he felt like he should _say_ something to her.

"Okay, really? I don't get you at all! I saw you every Tuesday and was trying to be friendly but really even if after making me talk for 35 minutes isn't going to convince you that I'm not a crazy rapist, then fine. Try making a better strategy of pushing the next man who comes up to you to talk instead of making them garble for minutes straight. One that doesn't make you look so dumb! I mean, you won't even tell me your name and I don't need a shrink!" Ikuto stood up angrily and turned to the door when he heard a chair screech and someone grab his wrist. He turned around surprised and saw her holding the very napkin she had been writing on earlier with her white, shaky hands:

Hi. I'm Amu! It's nice to meet you too! =)

The girl, Amu, turned to a shade of the color of her hair before she snatched her book and ran out the door. 4:35. It wasn't 35 minutes. It was only about 10 minutes. As he stood there, frozen, the memory of her finger flexing flashed in his mind. It hadn't been flexing or any finger exercise of the sort. She had been using sign language. the idea finally dawned to him. The reason why she hadn't been speaking the entire time. She was mute.

She wasn't there. Tuesday, exactly 4:25 on the last day of school, at the third column of the last row table for two in the cafe, Nancie's, a old romantic couple were kissing sweetly had replaced her table. He felt extremely guilty. Of course she wouldn't want to return to a place where some strange guy would walk up to her and then suddenly snap. As he was about to turn to leave, someone tapped him on his shoulder. He spun around and saw Amu, dead-drop beautiful as usual and holding two taiyakies. She wasn't wearing her complex Gothic style clothes today but instead a simple shirt with words on them and light blue jeans. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, unsure what to say.

Instead, Ikuto read the blended words on the shirt:

Proud HELPER of Nancie's Blindness and Deaf Help Association

He looked up at her and she grinned.

"You like taikyaki, don't you? I like them too," he glanced at his favorite food and looked at her with shock. In response she looked at him with worry.

"Oh, yea, you didn't get sick did you? I had a sore throat last week and I was afraid I gave you my cold!"

**Hrm. ...Did you like At Nancie's or Hello, Kitty better? **

**Oh, btw, just for in case you didn't know, a lot of those associations that help the deaf and the mute have many people who know how to do sign language and teach it to the kids/adults.**


End file.
